


Tempest

by dustkeeper



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Episode Ignis Spoilers, Fluff, Ignis doing silly voices, Ignoct Secret Santa 2017, Inspired by Life is Strange: Before the Storm, M/M, Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 18:39:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13106187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustkeeper/pseuds/dustkeeper
Summary: Noctis asks if Ignis would want to be set free from service. Ignis proves the opposite.





	Tempest

**Author's Note:**

> Ignoct Secret Santa gift for faechou @tumblr!  
> There’s some dialogue taken directly from episode two of Before the Storm and some lines from The Tempest by William Shakespeare. Basically, the play scene with an Ignoct spin. I hope you enjoy it!

               Literature had never been one of Noctis' stronger subjects. Unlike his advisor and shield, who both bonded over their appreciation for books of all genres, the prince rarely read for leisure. He would rarely read for educational purposes, most likely, if Ignis hadn't been helping him with his homework since grade school.

               Ignis didn't do all the work for Noct, of course. After Noctis read as much as he could of whatever play or short story the teacher had assigned (which usually amounted to him skimming through the first couple pages), Ignis would meet up with him to answer any questions. Sometimes, they'd read to each other, especially when the assigned literature was a play. _The Tempest_ was one of many old Solheim plays Noctis was forced to read in the ancient language. His typical first question to Ignis would be, "What the hell are they saying?" Oddly enough, this was not his first question as the two sat down on Noct's couch one Thursday evening.

               "Doth thou hath any questions?" Ignis asked. He's glad to see a little smile grace Noct's lips in response; he'd seemed a bit down when he welcomed Ignis into the living room.

               "Uhh… no," he said. "Not yet. I think I need to read it again to jog my memory."

               "If you read it the first time." He eyed the prince pointedly.

               "I did! There's a storm, and a guy, and another guy and this girl… there might have been another girl…"

               "Your interpretation of the text is gripping, Highness."

               "Yeah, whatever. Let's just read it." Noctis swiped to the right page with a force that made Ignis worry he would rip the pages out.

               Opening his own copy of _The Tempest_ more carefully, he elected not to push the issue of the boy's sour mood. He'd discover the source of it soon enough. Noctis could never hide things like that from Ignis for long. "Let's start around Act 1, Scene 2. You take the role of Prospero, and I'll be Miranda."

               Secretly, Ignis loved reading plays with Noctis. He'd never been a part of any performing arts, not even in an introductory course at his university, but it was fun to pretend to be an actor when it was just one close friend witnessing his attempts. Noctis had trouble reading the lines in his normal voice, but he'd laugh appreciatively at Ignis' various voices for each of the characters. It was a tad worrying when his shrill imitation of Prospero's daughter didn't even earn a smile.

               Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary with the prince's mood earlier this morning when Ignis had dropped off sack lunches for him and Prompto, who'd stayed over the night before. Noct's friend from school stayed over often enough that Ignis had begun to prepare an extra serving at meals, just in case.

               Hmm… maybe that was it. Perhaps he and Prompto had quarreled earlier that day. He couldn't imagine it: neither were confrontational personalities, and Prompto was likely to apologize to someone who stole his wallet at gunpoint, but everyone was possible of disagreements from time to time. He'd have to check with Noctis after they finished reading. Noctis had one question about Prospero's story to Miranda, vague enough for the advisor to assume he was asking for the sake of appearing to be paying attention, but Ignis had moved on to the role of Ariel without calling him out.

               "What is 't thou canst demand?" Noctis read.

               "My liberty."

               "Thy liberty?" Noctis repeated slowly. It sounded as though he'd lost his place on the page, and Ignis was about to assist him when he suddenly continued, "Nay! This, most of all, I cannot grant."

               Okay, not the _exact_ turn of phrase used, but correcting him would serve little help. "I prithee," Ignis pressed on. "Remember I have done thee worthy service, told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, served without grudge or grumblings. Thou didst promise to bate me a full year."

               "I remember no such promise to you."

               He wasn't even trying anymore, was he? With a weary sigh, Ignis frowned up at his reading partner. "Noct…"

               "But the rest is true. Thy work has exceeded thy calling. Thou hast been there for me always, striving to please my every whim without complaint. I… I never said how dearly I hold thee," the prince said, still staring at the page as though he were reading the words. "My… my habit's been to keep my feelings, uh… well-draped."

               Ignis noted the tips of his ears turning a bright pink. His brow softened in confusion as he watched his companion pretend to read.

               "Most loyal spirit, companion, and friend," Noctis remained in character despite going off book. "Or… does thou not enjoy my company? Am I simply a burden or job for you - err, thou?"

               Where was this improvisation coming from? Was it pure role play or something else? Ignis wasn't sure what to think.

               "I'm afraid I don't understand," Ignis spoke in his normal pitch, any pretense of reading in the play's context abandoned.

               "If…" Noctis took in a deep beath. "If I were to grant thy request of liberty, if thou could no longer serve me, would there be anything to keep thou around?" He looked up, meeting Ignis' eyes. "Or would thou be happy to flee and never look back?"

               This… certainly wasn't about Prospero and Ariel. Ignis felt a deep ache in his chest at the realization of Noct's intentions: he was questioning _their_ bond, the friendship they had fostered since early childhood. Was this Ignis' doing? Had he done or said something to make Noctis question his loyalty to him? He couldn't think of anything in particular, though emotional and interpersonal subtleties weren't things he was as keen on as he pretended to be. Still, after more than a decade of friendship, the advisor had hoped he knew Noctis well enough.

               "Highness…" Ignis reached over to grab Noctis' hand. " _Noct_ , I swore an oath to guide and protect you always, and I have kept it in my heart. No tempest nor temptation could keep me away from your presence. I've no illusion of freedom: there is nowhere I could flee that I could escape the tether of my devotion to you. It is not of contract but of contentment that I reside by your side. You… you bring me every happiness. I've no want of anything beyond these walls."

               The intensity of Noctis' gaze was unlike any he'd ever seen in them before. He seemed stunned, but relieved, and as though he'd realized a startling answer to a question. Ignis himself felt his cheeks burn; maybe he had gone a bit overkill with his assurances of friendship. But Noctis was important to him - perhaps the most important thing - and he would never regret telling him so.

               His companion was silent for a long moment, a thumb running over his. Then, suddenly, their fingers were hastily and awkwardly untangled, and Noctis cleared his throat. "Then… Go make thyself like a nymph o' th' sea. Be subject to no sight but thine and mine, invisible to every eyeball else. Go take this shape and hither come in ’t. Go hence with diligence."

               Ignis' eyes lingered on Noctis, a smile tugging at his lips, before he played along with Noctis' decision to ignore their off-script confessions. He returned his voice to the higher pitch of Miranda as they continued, "The strangeness of your story put heaviness in me…"

 

 

* * *

 

**"I swore an oath to stand with Noct and keep him safe. Whatever it takes, I _will_ protect him!"**

 

* * *

 

               

               "No. You won't be going alone. I'll - "

               "No, you're right. I mean, I wouldn't have made it all this way without you guys. Why stop now? In the end, I might not have you at my side, but I'll always have you in my heart."

               For one beautiful moment, Ignis could see again. But he did not see an older, wiser king fresh from the Crystal. He saw a shy little boy who took his hand in his with a bright smile. He saw a teenager who read words that weren't written on the page. He saw a twenty year-old man who laughed when he heard that a black chocobo had snatched the glasses off his friend's nose.

               "No tempest nor temptation could keep me away from your presence," he told the man.

               He heard a laugh. "After all this time. You still remember that, huh?"

               "So do you," Ignis retorted, smiling despite the tear falling from his cheek. "You… You never did tell me what that all was about."

               "Oh, I don't know," Noctis said, pulling Ignis' arm so he'd move a little closer. "Just a boy weeping 'at mine unworthiness, that dare not offer what I desire to give.'"

               He knew what Noctis had been thinking so long ago now.  Ignis supposed, somehow, he had always known. He lifted his king’s hands to his mouth. "A remarkable memory. Did the Draconian perform Old Solheim theatre in the Crystal?"

               "His Miranda voice had nothing on yours."

               "'I am a fool,'" Ignis recited in his old voice for Miranda, which was really what he had used for any young female in their readings, "'to weep of what am I glad of.'"

               He couldn't tell if Noctis was laughing or crying in response. Perhaps a bit of both. "Yeah. Still got it. Thanks for everything, Iggy."

               And so, the two fools wept, holding each other beneath the darkness.

               Even when the dawn came, Prospero did not relinquish his hold over the spirit Ariel.


End file.
